


ShinyZango's The Nutcracker - Althea's Epilogue

by LionessGamer



Series: The Ghost Nutcracker [3]
Category: Nußknacker und Mausekönig | Nutcracker and the Mouse King - E. T. A. Hoffmann, Shinyzango's The Nutcracker
Genre: . . . he comes back to her., After so long . . ., Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Reunions, The Nutcracker, shinyzango
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-08
Updated: 2018-04-08
Packaged: 2019-04-20 07:14:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14255724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LionessGamer/pseuds/LionessGamer
Summary: When all has been said and done, and the Mouse menace has been vanquished forever, what is left behind? What is Althea’s future now?This is a sequel to my previous fanwork, The Heavens Will Guide You, part of my short series set in ShinyZango’s The Nutcracker story (and also kind of an “ending credits” scene to the ending of her adaption). So please read the first stories, if you haven’t already.This is, of course, set in ShinyZango’s The Nutcracker and refers several times to her characters, Hans and Clara.This is actually my first Nutcracker writing that does not feature an appearance by ShinyZango’s characters, so have mercy! XDStory inspired by and written to the songs, “Nightsky” by Tracey Chattaway, “And They Have Escaped The Weight Of Darkness” by Ólafur Arnalds, “I Will Always Return” (End Title) by Bryan Adams, and “Heart Stops Beating” by Joshua Micah.Recommend playing Nightsky for the last half of this. :>





	ShinyZango's The Nutcracker - Althea's Epilogue

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [ShinyZango's The Nutcracker](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/369279) by ShinyZango. 



> Enjoy!

The light of the setting sun drifted into the rooms of the cozy cabin through the parted seams of elegant curtains. Modest chairs and furniture stood vacant and waiting among the sun’s spotlights, working together to bathe the room in warm colors. Among the streams of light, a peaceful silence blanketed the home, faint specks of dust dancing in the quiet. The calm of the cabin’s interior was only ever interrupted by the occasional birdsong from the outside world.

However, the sanctity of the tranquil scene was broken by the rattling of the front door as it opened.

Peace and calm retreated some from the home as the rasping of heavy breathing attacked the air.

Voronina Althea half-walked, half-stumbled, into her home, her old body shaking with fatigue as she leaned heavily against her walking stick. A young, male doll dressed in a tailcoat suit followed behind her, his arms reaching out to steady her as her basket dangled from his arm.

“Are you sure that you are alright, Madam Althea?” The young man asked, his deep-blue painted eyes watching worriedly from a wooden face topped with short waves of black curls. Holding on to the doorknob for extra support, Althea waved him off as she tried to steady her harsh breathing.

“Yes . . . ah . . . yes, my boy. I’ll be fine once . . . once I rest these old bones. I’m just . . . not used to exercise anymore.” She panted for breath as she spoke, tightly gripping the doorknob for strength as her legs shook underneath her robes. But with a deep breath, she forced her hunched-over form into straightness and turned back to her escort, quickly taking her basket from him as she tilted her head up at him.

“Thank you . . . for your kindness in escorting me, Keldan. I can . . . take it from here.” Keldan eyed his blind elder with immense worry, not at all fooled by her act. Even now, she still couldn’t speak a full sentence without gasping.

Rife with concern, Keldan stood conflicted as he let Althea take the basket from him, the woman turning away from him to take a few more steps into her home. Then, with a burst of caring determination, he put a hand to his chest and bowed forward slightly to the old woman as he made a request.

“If you would permit me, madam, I would like Eileen and I to pay you a visit tomorrow.” Althea’s head turned back to him as she placed her cane against the wall. The statement had caught the elder completely by surprise, but she was quick to try to refuse him. She did not want her health to be a concern to anyone, especially to this kind lad whom she had known for years.

“I’m quite alright, Keldan. Really! Do not let . . . my old age dampen your time in the celebrations, especially . . . your time with your new fiancée!” The last thing Althea wanted was to interfere with the newly-engaged couple’s time together. Both Keldan and his porcelain-faced sweetheart, Eileen, had already been so kind and helpful to her over the years. It wouldn’t be fair to them to keep them from the celebrations after everything they had done for her.

And, if she was being truly honest, she was sure that being around the presence of their love for each other would only give her heartache, in which they would worry even more.

Unfortunately, it seemed that Keldan wasn’t backing down. He shook his head and fixed Althea with a firm, but respectful look. Even blind, Althea could sense his wooden body tense with conviction and hear it in his voice as he spoke.

“Please, Madam Althea . . . both of us are concerned for you . . . with both your health and your isolation out here. It would ease our souls greatly to give you company during the kingdom’s merriment.” Althea inwardly smiled as she felt his adamant gaze on her. The boy was as stubborn to help others as his father had been. It was no wonder that Althea had always been fond of that family.

But despite the fondness she felt for the boy, Althea still wanted to argue, to let the doll down with her own stubborn resolve . . . but she was tired. She was exhausted and needed to rest.

And she could feel a heaviness in her chest starting to sink in, a familiar omen of approaching symptoms.

She really didn’t want him to stay for that. So, with a sigh, she complied with his wishes.

“If that is your wish, my boy . . . I will allow it. Just don’t go forcing Eileen into anything!” She gave him a weak laugh at her own request, an amused twinkle in her whited eyes that effectively calmed Keldan’s nerves. With a soft laugh of his own, he grabbed hold of the doorknob as he prepared to leave.

“Haha! Never!” He respectfully dipped his head to her.

“Thank you and farewell, Miss Althea. Until noon tomorrow.” Althea smiled at him and gave an exasperated laugh as she stood as steady as she could within the main room, gently waving her hand as he began to close the door.

“Fare thee well, young Keldan.” The young doll grinned, waving back at her until the door clicked shut, leaving her alone in the peaceful silence of her house.

The silence persisted for a moment, Althea listening carefully for Keldan’s receding footsteps, before she let herself slump against the tall, cushioned armchair beside her. With no eyes upon her, she let loose the bouts of coughing that she had been holding back and allowed her weak body to finally continue in its trembling.

She clenched at her chest with her free hand, taking deep breaths as she tried to combat the tightness forming in her ribcage. After a minute or two, her chest loosed and she encouraged her aching body away from the chair and to begin moving down the hall. With one arm clenching her basket to her chest, she pressed the other against the wall for support as she slowly shuffled her way to the medicine den.

Her raspy breathing was interrupted with a sigh of relief as her hand met the den’s doorframe. Door already open, her hand left the wall and joined the other in cradling her supply basket as she carefully maneuvered her sore legs towards her mixing table.

Placing the basket on the table, she quickly located her padded chair and eased herself back into it, groaning in some relief. She went limp against the back of her seat, grimacing at the deep aches in her bones and chest.

She allowed herself a moment to settle, a moment for her aching legs and tired body to recover. As her discomfort began to lessen, she opened her dead eyes from behind her blindfold and pointed their unseeing gaze up the wall to land on the location of her beloved’s portrait.

A weak smile grew across her lips as she remembered the portrait’s appearance and detail. Her smile widened further as she remembered the smiling face of her real-life white knight.

“Oh, Daemon . . .” His name flowed from her lips without mistake, kept sacred despite the still present wheezes assaulting her breath. Pushing back her aches and pains, she smiled brightly up at the painting, as she rose up in her seat, speaking in excitement to him as if he were standing right in front of her.

“They did it. Hans and Clara, they finally did it! Just as I knew they would!” The rasp in her throat did nothing to stop the pride and joy from entering her voice, strengthening it with emotion. Her brief lean forward in her chair was thwarted when she collapsed back into it, sinking in with relief and exhaustion as she whispered softly with her eyes closing.

“It’s . . . it’s over. It’s finally over . . . this whole nightmare and with it, this endless war!” The consuming conflict that had been waging for centuries had at last seen its end, at the hands of a cursed young man and an otherworldly young woman. Due to their efforts, the people of the kingdom no longer had to live in fear and dread, just as Althea had for so long. She had been forced to watch in horror as the mice slowly took her homeland piece by piece over decades. But, at long last, the thundering storm clouds that had covered every bright horizon within the Kingdom had been swept away, leaving behind the sunlight to finally shine down upon them all.

The old maiden could not express just how proud and grateful she was to Hans and Clara, from the very moment she felt the whole world sigh in relief as the mice fled from their lives. She mourned the fact that she would likely never personally give them her thanks, as news had spread to say that they had left the Kingdom soon after their victory.

Nevertheless, she would always send them her prayers and blessings, wherever they were.

Turning her attention back to the gentle smile of Daemon’s image, she continued on with the excitement of a child, going on to tell of the festivals and rejoicing that had commenced after the pair’s victory over the Mouse King. Her visit to the village had bombarded her with cheers and laughter, with news of a kingdom erupting with dolls and humans coming out of their hiding places and sealed homes.

“The whole kingdom is celebrating! In fact, our own village is putting on quite a show at this very moment!” She had stayed on her supply run just long enough to confirm the land’s eternal freedom from the Mice and to experience the start of the celebration festivities that her old village of Willowvale was holding for the next few days. However, her old age had kept her presence within her hometown short. She had chatted a bit with a few old friends as she had gathered her supplies, most of which her friends and acquaintances tried to give to her for free. But after refusing every instance of charity, she had left with young Keldan running up behind her, determined to walk her home on the long path back to her cabin in the forest.

The joy, relief, and kindness of her people warmed and eased her old heart. She smiled brightly up at Daemon, eager to deliver all of her good news.

“They say that people are coming together from all over the kingdom and plans are already being made for the restoration of all that we lost in these years of destruction.” So much of the kingdom, and much of the land it sat upon, had been torn apart in the plundering and pillaging of the mice, rendering so many towns and monuments wrecked and destroyed. Althea winced when she thought of the great many number of lives that had been lost over the length of the mouse invasion.

So many souls stolen away . . .

Althea’s smile faded away and her head lowered, her thoughts descending to the dark consequences of the Mouse Royal family’s actions.

In particular, she reflected upon the losses that heralded the conquering of their homeland.

The cause behind the Nutcrackers’ disappearances had been a question that had stalked her for most of her life. She had spent decades wondering the lands looking for answers, searching for her nutcracker. She had left her footprints on every inch of the kingdom, as well as several neighboring territories and wildernesses.

But every lead, every clue and theory, had been dead ends. No one, be them doll, human, mouse, or even mythical creature, had any clue as to why all of the Nutcrackers had vanished, nor where they had gone. Over time, Althea’s immense determination to find them had worn down as it was blocked at every turn. Her hope for their reappearance had died down as the years passed and as her body’s limits were reached.

However, despite its weakening, she had never let her hope completely die, her determination always staying strong. To this day, she still looked and she still listened.

And with the turn of recent events, she found her dormant hope awakening once again, flaring in its burning embers.

Despite the lack of evidence, she still held strong suspensions that the mice had had something to do with the disappearances. The removal of the bane of their kind’s existence would definitely have been one of their greatest desires over the centuries of fighting with them, so the mice had were always been her primary suspects.

That theory only made their defeat all the more satisfying for Althea.

And with the defeat, came the hope. Many believed that the Nutcrackers had left the kingdom to its fate, the whole traitorous race likely now dead and gone.

Althea refused to believe in any of those lies. The Nutcrackers . . . Daemon . . . would never have left their kingdom to the mercy of mice, not willingly. They must have been forced out . . . or captured one by one. There were still many places beyond the kingdom that they could be camped or held in, places out in the world that Althea had never set foot in and some that no one had ever touched.

Who was to say that her nutcracker . . . that all the nutcrackers weren’t out there somewhere, forced away by some dirty rat’s endeavors?

And . . . and they couldn’t be _gone._ An entire race of incredible warriors such as the Nutcrackers couldn’t possibly have been snuffed out. They were the survivors of battlefields and turmoil, the best of the best! They wouldn’t . . . die . . . not without some sort of fight, some sort of mass evidence of their struggle!

But there had been no signs, little to no evidence of a struggle in many cases. And so, they must still be out there, and with the mice menace finally dealt with, maybe . . . maybe they could return at least.

Althea’s downcast, blind gaze rose back up to the painting, regarding it as if it were Daemon himself. Her grip on her chair’s armrests tightened as a desperate, but hopeful, tone entered her voice.

“Will . . . will you come back? Now that our worst enemy has been vanquished forever?” Her heart hoped and prayed for a confirmation to her question. She would do anything to have her Daemon back. She would give anything . . . if just to hear his voice again.

Her blossoming hope pulled her from her seat, prompting her to stand. She slowly reached out to Daemon, whispering in a voice that begged for an answer.

“Will the Nutcrackers return?”

She took a step towards the painting, her dazed hope growing brighter in her chest.

Then suddenly, the heartening lightness in her chest contracted, cutting off her breath as her lungs trembled under an abrupt pressure. Clenching her chest and gasping for air, the old, painting healer dropped to her knees onto the floor, instantly hunched over. One hand gripped the edge of the den’s cot tightly as she fought to pull in air past the onslaught of a massive coughing fit.

Panic and pain swept away her hopeful dreams as her lungs refused to obey her command, twitching in their own panicked flailing behind her ribcage. Her hand fisted the front of her robes, locket swinging wildly against her knuckles, as she battled her way through the attack.

She began to feel light-headed as the attack reach its peak and she pushed back the approaching unconsciousness. The hand on her chest darted to her mouth as she felt her gasping coughs become more wet and flooded in her throat.

Just as the tightness within her chest began to slowly loosen from its surprise attack, she felt fat drops of liquid hit her hand as they flew from her coughing mouth.

It was only after the attack had past and she could breathe more easily that she recognized the taste and smell of blood.

Dismay and frustration filled her aching heart as she swallowed the remaining blood in her mouth. She felt a small line of it run down her chin from her lips, making her grimace even more.

Slowly and carefully, she pushed her once again trembling body off the floor and back into her chair. Reaching a shaky hand over her desk, she retrieved an awaiting washcloth and wiped the blood from her hand and lips.

Once she was done, she tossed the bloodied cloth back onto the table, leaning forward to drop her arms onto the soft wood. She sat in silence for a moment, bent over her table with harsh breathing and a heavy-hearted expression.

Her condition was getting worse. At this rate, it wouldn’t be long at all before her body would give out and finally lose its race against time.

Reaching out to the jars and bottles that populated most of her table, she ran her hand along the tops until she found the one with the correct shape. As quickly as she could, she uncorked the bottle and poured a measured amount of the contents into a small nearby cup. Putting the bottle away, she lifted the cup and carefully drank her medicating mixture down, cautious of her itching throat.

It wouldn’t cure her . . . and it wouldn’t ease the pain, but it could at least grant her a longer respite from the next episode.

Her unseeing eyes stared into the table’s wood as she rested her arms upon it again, her empty cup still held in one hand.

“Daemon . . .” She whispered, his name spoken weakly and with fear. Her blind eyes clenched shut as she gritted her teeth against the faint taste of blood still in her mouth.

“I’m so afraid.” Tears should have been filling her eyes, she knew, but her destroyed tear ducts left the act of crying impossible. The woman had never thought before her injury that the shedding of tears would be something she would miss so terribly. However, her inability to cry with tears did not stop the added hitch in her already unsteady breath and the formation of a different kind of tightness within her chest.

She was so scared, but it was not of approaching death, having come to terms with her mortality long ago.

No. What she feared most . . . was the breaking of Daemon’s heart.

There was the possibility . . . that Daemon . . . did not survive to this point, she would admit. Decades had past and anything could have happened. The vision she had had on the first night with Hans and Clara could have been some proof to that . . . or it could have been another trick of her aging mind. It had not been the first time that her mind had gotten trapped in the past.

But . . . in either case, immense grief would always mingle into her mind at the memory of that night.

If . . . if he truly was . . . gone, then death concerned her far less now.

So instead, it was the possibility that he was alive . . . that was proving to be the root of her fear.

While she wished with all her heart that her love still lived, the thought also filled her with a great sense of sadness and dread.

It was one of her greatest fears; the possibility of his return home . . . only to find her gone from this world, their long-awaited reunion never to be.

It would break him completely to learn of her passing, just as it would break her in death to know that she had lived to never see him again.

But she knew, in her heart, that it would be his pain that she would suffer the most from, for it was a wound that Althea wished to never inflict upon him.

Pushing herself away from the table and leaning her back against the chair, she gave a tired, mournful expression to the painting above her, her breathing finally evening into a shallow rhythm.

“Please, my love . . . I fear that my time is close. I . . . I-I can’t hold on for much longer. So if . . . if you really are coming back . . . please hurry.”

There was no response to her request . . . no strange visions or answering voice. All was silent and still within the medicine den, the small world of the room lifeless but for Althea.

She was completely alone.

The exhausted elder sighed, suddenly feeling the full force of the loneliness in the air around her.

And just as she always had for years, she pushed the suffocating pressure away with distractions, with work. It would do her no good to dwell within depressive thoughts.

Letting out a small groan, she got to work, clearing her mind of her dark wonderings as she dug into her basket for her new tools and preservatives.

Soon, she lost herself in her work, occasionally clicking her tongue for auditory assistance as she carefully prepared herbs and plants for storage and mixed up new batches of much needed medicine.

However, it wasn’t long into her work that her exhaustion hit its peak. The long walk to and from her village, as well as the recent attack, had worn her down immensely. With a weak yawn, Althea put her supplies away and expertly stored the rest of her work for later.

Slowly standing from her chair, she grimaced as her back and joints cracked in the movement. Huffing at the pain of her stiff joints, she moved over to the cot, too tired to change her attire or properly prepare herself for sleep. Too tired to even walk to her bedroom.

It barely mattered to her. She very rarely slept in her actual bed anyway.

With a few grunts and groans, she sat down on the bed and removed her shoes. Once her footwear had been pushed aside, she untied her blindfold, letting it fall from her eyes and setting it on the small table beside her. Then, with a loud groan, she maneuvered her old bones into the soft covers, her hood falling from around her face as she leaned her head back upon the fluffy pillow.

She sighed as her tired muscles and old bones sank into the sheets, finally relaxing without the strain of gravity and exercise. She quickly felt her consciousness drifting, her body calling her mind to join it in a relaxing stupor.

She fought against the gentle tide for a moment longer, rising her hand up along her body to wrap her fingers around her mother’s locket. Still within it, there nestled her most treasured relic, the one word that still survived from Daemon’s final message to her.

The remembered words played within her head, taking on her knight’s voice.

 

_One day, when mistakes are put to right . . ._

_‘What mistakes, Daemon?’_

_. . . and our story comes to an end . . ._

_‘Does it have to come to an end?’_

_I promise you, my love . . ._

_‘You promise?’_

_We will be together again._

With those last words, a gentle smile graced her weary face. She stayed faithful to her nightly ritual and slowly brought the locket to her lips for a kiss.

_‘And I promise . . . that no matter what happens . . . I’ll be waiting for you . . . even if it’s. . .’_

Her mind began to drift, the tides gently pulling her away. She lowered the locket back over her heart, never letting it go.

_‘. . . for eternity . . .’_

“Good . . . night . . . Daemon.” She held on to his name as tightly as she held the locket to her chest. The warmth of the night took her at last into peaceful respite.

* * *

 

 

 

 

_Althea . . ._

Althea twitched, her consciousness suddenly pulled from its nest of empty dreams. Her awareness rose steadily from her restful sleep, the haziness of her mind receding despite her desire to fall back into her peaceful rest.

However, she could feel a restlessness growing within her, the need to get up and move. The desire fought with her and won against her still drifting mind.

So with a yawn, she gave up trying to fall back into sleep and cautiously stretched out her limbs, popping several joints. She expected stiffness and discomfort, but was relieved to find that her body seemed to have recovered during the night.

Rising from her bed, she slid her feet into her awaiting shoes and slowly stood up, cautious of her aged limbs. She was pleased to find that this morning was to be one of the good ones, her elderly body giving little to no protest to her efforts. She considered her blindfold for a moment, but decided that it was not necessary to wear at the moment and turned away from it.

Taking a deep breath, she moved to the doorway and out into the hall, delighted to find some swiftness and painlessness had returned to her physique. With a smile, she briskly made her way down the hall and into the main room, intent on going into the kitchen to make her morning herbal tea.

However, she stopped in the middle of the room, her blind eyes turned towards the outside world that peeked through the window curtains. With her sensitive hearing, she could just pick up the songs of an early morning world, sung with the nearly familial singing of the forest crickets and the occasional chirp of an early bird or two. The chorus of thousands of leaves moving in the wind joined with the song of ending night.

Suddenly, she felt an immense desire to join the turning world outside her lonely cabin. And with the return of her strength, who was to say when the next time she would be able to walk amongst the trees would be?

And with that thought, Althea gave herself an amused sigh as she approached the front door and reached for her cane. She briefly considered going back for her blindfold, but quickly dismissed the thought.

There was no point in hiding what the forest had already witnessed.

With wooden staff in hand, she exited her home and into the peaceful music of the world outside. She breathed in the cool breeze that greeted her at the door, its flow and temperature telling her that the sun had yet to breach the horizon. It did not matter to her. The darkness of the night meant nothing for one who lived in a darkness all their own.

She walked confidently from her porch, immediately following a trail that she knew by heart. As she walked, she listened to the forest around her, basking in its familiar, homely air. Her fingers brushed against the bark of passing trees, recognizing each one from years of walking amongst them. The crickets hid themselves amongst the trees and bush, continuing a song unhindered by her passage. The wind sang its own song to her as well, strumming the leaves and grass in an ancient melody. An early bird called out above her, singing out for the sun to hurry on its way.

Althea felt her very soul relax as she took in the essence of nature around her, completely at home beneath the trees that had kept watch over her since she was very small. She moved swiftly through brush and tightly knitted trees with ne’er a snag to her robes, all life seemingly moving aside for her as she walked the ancient game trails.

She smiled in content as the soft wind playfully ruffled her silk robes, racing around her through the maze of towering trunks. Thoroughly relaxed, she threw her senses completely out, taking in fully the harmonious environment that held for her so many wonderful memories.

 

_Althea . . ._

Althea’s nostalgia halted, her whole mind with it. The elder froze as still as the tree trunks upon the hidden trail, her breathing catching in her throat as her closed eyes shot open.

That sound . . . that whisper . . . that heavenly voice! It . . . could it be . . .?

It had been faint, almost missed, but it had echoed from all around her, almost as if the trees themselves had all called out to her with his voice.

She had heard it . . . she had heard his voice!

“Daemon?” She whispered, shock flooding her low voice.

Her head spun left and right, listening intently to the world around her. She spun in a circle on her feet, trying desperately to determine the source of her called name. Even her eyes darted from one area to the next, trying in vain to search the forest past the unending darkness of her lost sight.

Color flickered in the corner of her eye.

Or perhaps . . . not in vain.

Her head snapped to its direction, watching in amazement as small flickers of color broke through her blackened vision. As she moved her head, the small embers remained in the one direction, not at all following her blind eyes’ line of sight.

It was as if she wasn’t blinded, only stuck in a dark room with a light flickering in the distance.

The glimmering white light suddenly gave a small burst, then nearly died out within the ocean of darkness. A surge of fear shot through her heart.

Her wooden cane dropped to the ground with a thud . . .

. . . and she gave chase.

She turned sharply off the trail, plowing through the tall undergrowth to reach the light. She ran as fast as her old legs could carry her, huffing as she did. She gritted her teeth in frustration and despair as the little flames never came closer, despite the distance she stumbled across.

The image of the vision that she had had that night filled her mind to the brim, blocking out any other thought.

She didn’t care that she may have just snapped. She didn’t care that her mind must have finally unhinged under a whole world of strain. 

As long as she finally found him, the Powers could have her sanity.

She battled through every bush and shrub, pushed aside tree after tree. And as before, they let her pass quite easily, seeming unwilling to stand in her way. Her long robes flowed through the air without capture or hitch. It seemed that, to the forest, she was free to chase whatever dream she pleased.

The stumbling pursuit seemed to go on for hours, and yet Althea found herself barely getting tired, her breathing barely labored as she nearly jogged after the fading glimmers of light within the deadness of her sight.

Then, suddenly, her feet left the tangles of bush and tall saplings and landed on continuous lengths of short grass.

At that same moment, the light she had been chasing died, completely vanishing before her eyes with no return.

Althea slowed to a stop, breathing fast as she frantically turned her blind gaze to and fro in an attempt of spot the mythical light. She listened carefully, searching for any clue as to where the light had gone.

She suddenly felt the full force of the night’s cool breeze coming at her from ahead, making her shiver slightly. The power of the wind, and the absence of the sound of swinging branches before her, told her that she had reached one of the edges of the forest, the rustling of waves of tall grass telling her that some sort of large field lay beyond. The strong scent of morning dew and fresh, green grasses was strong upon this approaching breeze.

Facing the open field, she took in deep breaths as she desperately gathered all the information that her remaining senses could give her about the area.

Where was he? **_Where was he?!_** She had to find him. She had to—

“Althea.”

Every thought . . . every movement and breath on her part came to a complete and utter halt. Her very heart stopped the moment his voice sounded from behind her, loud, clear, and very much **_real_**.

Leaves rustled across the ground from deeper into the forest behind her, heedless of the wind that had come to a near standstill. She couldn’t move, could barely breathe, as the rustling continued, taking on the form of heavy footsteps against the crisp forest floor. She flinched at the familiar, soft clack of metal against metal.

The footsteps stopped several feet away from her, silence reigning over the forest as the whole world seemed to hold its breath with her.

Her fragile heart once again beating, nearly racing, she gasped in her next inhale as she forced her shell-shocked limbs to move. She slowly turned around, her dulled eyes wide open.

Her heart nearly burst.

He stood before her in the darkness of her sightlessness, nearly shining against the pitch black. Even after all these years, he still looked just the same, still just as handsome and regal and kind as the very last time her eyes had witnessed him so many years ago.

His blue-tipped white armor gleamed within the darkness as he stood tall before her, the deep blue of his hooded cape drifting behind him in an invisible breeze.

And then, her pale, unseeing gaze met the eyes crafted from the blue sky itself.

She felt her heart ache and her eyes sting with unforthcoming tears as her long-lost knight’s gaze looked upon her with such **_love_** , an utter affection within them that she had always longed to see.

A tender smile was present below his warm eyes, absolutely fond. His gentle expression softened even further when Althea took a shaky step towards him, never blinking as she called his name in a quivering coo.

“D . . . D-Daemon?” She still couldn’t breathe. She could barely think. If this proved to be some sort of cruel dream or hallucination, as the rational part of her screamed that it had to be, she didn’t think she could handle it. She doubted she would recover.

But then, at her call, his smile widened and, with a relieved sigh, a weight seemed to lift from his shoulders. With hooded eyes that overflowed with warmth, he nodded to her with a smile that would have had tears coming to her eyes.

What was left of her breath was stolen away when he answered her, his voice as clear and alive as the day she last was held in his arms.

“My dear Althea . . .” The loving voice that had been silent within her life for **_so long_** shattered all of her final hesitations and doubts.

Her feet left the ground.

“ ** _DAEMON!_** ” His name burst from her throat in a joyous cry, the call echoing through the trees as she raced through the darkness with a speed that she should have no longer possessed.

He opened his arms to her, catching her as she crashed into his chest with a flying leap. Her arms wrapped tightly around his neck, naturally avoiding all the sharp points of his armor as his arms immediately encased her body, holding her up and cradling her against his broad chest.

Her eyes clenched shut as she buried her face in his neck and hair, relishing in his scent and the very real feeling of his armored body against hers.

He . . . he was here! He was alive! He had finally come back to her!

She sobbed into the crook of his throat, shaking with long-contained grief and waves of relief. Daemon cuddled her closer as she cried, his face pressed into her hair as his upper body leaned forward slightly to curl protectively over her.

“I-I m-missed you s-so much . . .” Althea wept, her hands clenching desperately at his white hair and wooden neck guard. Daemon nuzzled her in return, listening sadly to her anguished whimpers. His hands clenched her to him, as tightly as she did to him.

Burying his face in her hair, a single tear ran down his cheek as he whispered to her in a relieved and thankful tone.

“I missed you too, my love . . . for such a long time . . .” She trembled harder at his loving, deep baritone voice in her ear, pure happiness and adoration blossoming within her chest.

 “O-O-Oh-Oh . . . o-o-h m-my g-g-od . . .” Tears streamed down her cheeks as her heart broke. But within the warmth of Daemon’s embrace, it quickly mended itself back together, at long last whole with its long-lost, missing piece.

The large hand behind her caressed her back in comforting gesture, the knightly nutcracker cooing softly in her ear.

“Shhhhhh, it’s alright, Althea. Everything’s going to be alright now.”

She stayed against him for a time, unwilling and afraid to release even an ounce of her hold from him. But slowly, but surely, Daemon’s gentle whispers quieted her cries and whimpers, calming her as his hand stroked her back and combed through her hair. With a few final sniffles, Althea finally gathered the will to pull herself from Daemon’s neck, reopening her eyes.

The sight of Daemon’s warm expression greeted her, his blue eyes shining softly into hers. Captivated by the face she had longed to see again after so many years, she almost missed an extraordinary change around them.

The darkness . . . the total black of her lost sight . . . was gone.

Her eyes widened and her mouth dropped in shock as she witnessed a world of colors and shapes behind her knight. Tall pillars of mixed browns, blues, and greens towered behind him, stood all around them!

Trees . . . **_trees_**! For the first time in over half a century, she could see her forest again!

Overwhelmed, Althea’s head whipped from side to side as Daemon lowered her to the ground, uncurling his arms from around her. Holding on to his arms for support, she felt dizzy as she spun her head in every direction, observing the world as if she had never known it before.

But then, perhaps she didn’t.

Turning around, she inhaled sharply at the sight. Past the few remaining trees of the forest’s edge, she saw the field of grass that she had sensed before. However, it was not a pasture or small field, like she had expected.

What lay before her seemed to stretch on forever as an endless ocean of flowing grass. The wide-open plain spread out in nearly every direction from the edge of her forest, running straight into the line of the distant horizon. The sight of it shocked her, the woman knowing for certain that nothing like this existed anywhere within the kingdom, much as next to her forest.

The tall, green grasses were currently caught in a bluish hue, turning the land into a false image of an ocean. The closest rows of turfs even shined in the overlooking light, the heavy dew upon their blades glistening like stars.

Normally, this scene upon the earth would be determined as being dusted with the early morning, lit by the light of the approaching sun.

However, one look at the horizon beyond and the gentle lighting of the grassland as well as the trees above her was anything but normal.

Althea gasped in awe, taking a few steps out of Daemon’s reach as her head threw itself back to take in a sight that was beyond simple words.

Through the thinning branches of the trees and above the open endlessness of the plain beyond, an entire cosmos drifted in a thousand patterns above them, swirling and streaming in a kaleidoscope of colors and glows that radiated down to the earth. Within these heavenly rivers and lakes, an impossible amount of stars shined brightly against the black and color of the sky, taking on several colors of their own. A few streaked across the sky before her very eyes, like the shooting stars she had wished upon as a young girl.

And yet, it was like nothing like she had ever seen before, more than she had ever even imagined.

So many colors with so many points of sparkling light. The absolute beauty of the scene before her finally drove home an astonishing truth as her gaze slowly returned to the world below.

With a gasp, her hands shot up to her face, a look of disbelief written entirely across it.

Tears . . . she had been crying tears! Without her noticing, earlier waterfalls had left their mark on her cheeks, making them wet and sticky for the first time in what felt like an eternity. Dumbfounded, Althea’s hands moved to her eyes to wipe her tears away.

Her whole body froze, her mind unable to comprehend for a moment what she felt beneath her hands.

The scars . . .

The slashes that had marred her eyes for over **_sixty years_** . . . had vanished, as if they had never been.

She felt along her cheekbones and across her eyelids, unable to believe what she was sensing. The skin she felt under her fingers was completely unmarked, soft and flawless in a way she never thought it would be again.

Her hands trembled, slowly drifted away from her eyes as she stared in a daze into the darkness of the forest.

 “I . . . I-I can see a-again . . .?” She whispered in shock, but then choked on her own words as her mind shook with another realization.

Her voice . . . her voice had changed. She had failed to notice it before as well, but her vocals no longer held the rasp and pitch of an old woman at the end of her rope. Instead, the sound of it was strong and clear, youthful and song-like as it had once been.

With incredulity, Althea’s gaze snapped down to her hands as they hovered before her.

No wrinkles. No spots. No veins or knots. Her hands, previously aged and weathered, were now smooth and slender, the hands of a young woman.

Barely breathing, Althea’s wide stare traveled up her arms and over her entire body.

Her body stood strongly, young and slender, no longer bent under the weight of failing muscles and brittle bones. Her robes had also transformed on her without indication. In the place of her silky layers, upon her now rested a forest-green, short-sleeved dress that flowed around her legs and now booted feet, faint, lighter-green patterns of willow branches cascading down the length. Her eyes watered once again at the sight. It had been a favorite of hers from long ago, previously lost forever to her youthful days.

Traveling up her body, her eyes and hands together rose to her shoulders. Past the still-present chain of her locket, her hands were met with not short, thin curls, but a full mane of wavy strands that flowed down past her shoulders. Some of her long bangs fell into a curtain over one of her eyes and she saw them not with whites and greys, but in their original colors of brilliant golds and pale yellows.

With a shaking hand, she pushed the soft length back behind her ear as her mind sluggishly pieced together all the evidence into one miraculous conclusion.

“I-I’m . . . I’m young again . . .” She breathed out, stunned with disbelief.

This . . . this was impossible. It couldn’t be real.

A surge of pain promptly shot through her chest at the thought, fear and dismay beginning to consume her heart. Slowly, she turned her once again emerald-green eyes back to the man of her heart, who had been watching her with a patient smile.

Althea winced hard with growing grief. Just the sight of him made her newly-healed heart crack like ice against a speeding river. A new tear falling from a restored eye, she took a step back towards him, her hands reaching out to him as her expression pleaded for him to not be of her suspicions.

“Is . . . is this . . . just a dream?” She whispered brokenly to him, dreading the truth. Despite all its realism, could this all just be a trick of her ravaged mind? She could feel her heart snapping to pieces at the possibility.

At her anguished expression and falling tear, Daemon’s smile faltered and nearly died, but a deep understanding kept the smile from completely fading. Making his smile reassuring, he immediately shook his head, eager to dispel her distress.

He succeeded for the most part. The tenseness of Althea’s body faded as her mind absorbed his answer. Relief flowed into her expression, but was quickly followed by confusion. Her mouth opened, ready to ask her nutcracker how this was happening if this was not a dream, when a new thought occurred to her, freezing her breath. Her eyes ripped themselves away from her knight and up into the stars once more, absorbing once again the beautiful multitude of shining lights that the world had never seen before.

 

_‘And then, the flaming souls became the burning stars.’_

Althea’s mouth opened and closed for a moment as she tried to find her voice, the words of that ancient belief echoing in her head as the stars drifted across the endless sky. Slowly, her gaze gradually fell once more down to the white knight, his eyes meeting hers with care and concern. He carefully stepped towards her, gently taking her arms in his as she tried to speak.

“S-So . . . so then . . . t-then a-am I . . .?” Her voice quickly gave out, her sparkling emeralds searching his bright skies for an answer.

Those blue skies softened at her broken voice and confused expression, a certain sadness entering them as he gave her the answer to her unspoken question.

“Yes . . .” The word was spoken in a sorrowful tone, and yet his expression remained caring, comforting to her. He smiled at her gently, opening his mouth to further explain, when he stopped.

Althea began to tremble under his hands, a new wave of tears falling like waterfalls down her lovely face. She started hiccupping, the new sobs trapped in her throat.

“Althea?” Alarmed by her sudden distraught state, Daemon’s hand rose to her cheek, trying in vain to wipe away her tears. At his touch, her hands left his arms and rose to hold his hand in her cheek, keeping it trapped to her face with no chance of escape. She closed her eyes for a moment, taking some comfort in the feeling of his large hand pressed against her cheek before she looked back up at him, the utter sorrow in her eyes wrenching at his soul.

“So . . . s-so you . . . . y-you really are . . .?” Her whimpered words were the most broken and heartrending sound that he had ever heard. As he came to understand what she was asking, he let out a long sigh, completely heavy-hearted. Frowning sadly, he weakly nodded and tenderly began to pull her to him.

But there was no need.

Instantly, she threw herself into his chest without any encouragement, quickly wetting his chest plate with her tears as she sobbed against the white metal.

“Oh, Daemon, ** _I’m sorry_**! I’m so, so sorry!” Her guilty wails prompted the nutcracker’s arms to immediately curl around her, protective and comforting in its tight hold. Leaning his head down closer to hers, Daemon questioned her in a perplexed tone, his eyes watching her with a deep worry.

“Althea, my dear, why are you apologizing?” His gentle question received a long whimper from his love as she tried to answer him between sobs.

“I-I-I just . . .” She took in a deep breath, her lungs hitching at the task a bit, before curling herself deeper into his chest, her hands trying to dig into the sides of his armor as she clenched him to her.

“I should have tried harder! I-I-I s-sh-should . . . I should have found you in time!” The long-lost nutcracker’s eyes widened in surprise at her statement, not at all expecting her guilt and regret.

She continued to weep remorsefully against him, her tears running down his armor as well as dripping from her chin.

At her cries, his wide eyes dropped half-shut and looked upon his twin flame with a loving compassion.

“Althea . . .” Suddenly, the restored, young woman was gently, but firmly, pushed away from the nutcracker’s chest. Forced to let him go, Althea let out a small whimper before Daemon’s fist came up under her chin and lifted her face up to his.

Her whimpers subsided briefly as her eyes met with his once more. She held her breath as his blue orbs looked upon her tearful ones with so much warmth that she felt her breaking heart begin to melt.

With a loving, reassuring smile, Daemon leaned down and tilted his head, closing his eyes as he gently pulled her closer again.

His lips tenderly met with her own, the long awaited feeling of his kiss stunning the woman into stillness for a moment. However, her nutcracker didn’t have to wait long for her reaction.

Tears still flowing from now closed eyes, her arms quickly rose to loop around his neck, fingers buried in his tied-back hair as she pulled him further down to deepen the kiss. Daemon’s hand traveled out from under her chin and to the back of her head, his other arm wrapping around her waist as he pulled her as close as possible without hurting her.

Their lips moved and caressed one another, both intent on re-familiarizing themselves with the feel of the other. Both found themselves less than willing to pull away, a gentle wind swirling around them in a warm embrace.

And yet, eventually, Daemon had to break the kiss, mindful of Althea’s need to breathe. Opening his eyes, he leaned his forehead against hers and watched as she tried to catch her breath. Once her beautiful, green eyes finally reopened to him, he smiled gently as the hand behind her head returned to her check to wipe away the newest tears. He spoke softly to her in a soothing tone as he held her gaze in his.

“No one could have done more than you have, Althea. Please . . . do not blame yourself for that which you could not have changed.” He glanced down, breaking his capturing stare on her as his gaze stopped at her locket. His smile fell away with a somber air.

“What happened to my kind was beyond anyone’s help.” His voice was filled with his own guilt and regret, with a sadness that stretched beyond the losses he himself had endured.

Althea watched her love’s expression fall and listened to the pain in his voice. As his words echoed in her ears, Althea sensed that Daemon knew far more than what he was giving her, but even as an emotional mess, she knew better than to ask at the moment. For now though, with the gravity of his words bearing down on her, a new anguish entered her as she thought back to everything she had done, all the failures and setbacks she had endured for years.

“So . . . s-so it was all for nothing?” She whispered, her tone dejected as a few more tears slipped by.

Her crushed tone of voice had his eyes snapping back to hers. Then, a soft, understanding smile returned to his lips as he caressed her check with his thumb. His forehead nuzzled hers slightly as he spoke.

“No, my dearest. Your efforts were not in vain.” He continued to stroke her cheek as he carried on, his eyes gleaming as his smile widened.

 “Throughout your journeys and your trials, I have always been with you . . .” Althea gasped against the side of his hand, staring up at him in disbelief as his head slowly rose away from hers.

“Y-You have?” At her astonished whisper, Daemon nodded, humming in confirmation as he regarded her fondly.

“. . . and I watched you lead an extraordinary life, in which you have grown so much.” His hands moved, leaving her waist and cheek to take her hands in his. His armored hands completely engulfed hers, holding her hands firmly between them as he looked her straight in the eye. Althea listened with astonishment as he spoke with an air of confidence and absolute honesty, his words placed in a tone that received them as absolute truth.

“Through your endeavors, you have changed the lives of so many for the better with your kindness and your determination to keep going. Over the years, you saved a great many lives through your choices and actions . . . and as a result, you have helped secure a bright future for this world for generations to come.” The proud and adoring tone of his praising speech brought a faint blush to her cheeks, causing a weak, cracking laugh to bubble up from her throat as she closed her eyes. Daemon loosened his grip on her hands as she pulled one away to press into her eyes, trying to wipe away her next wave of tears before they could fall.

Daemon gave her a sad smile as he watched, waiting for her to look at him again before he spoke in a low, sincere voice as he pulled her closer.

“My time was over long ago . . . and I am so deeply sorry that you suffered for it . . .” He squeezed her hands in his as she returned her other hand to his hold. His expression turned briefly remorseful, but then, there was hope growing in his eyes as a small smile returned to his lips.

“But we must take heart, my love . . . for Death is not an end . . .” Her hands still in one of his, he turned away from her and stepped to the side, his now free palm open and raised in a gesture made to the distant horizon.

Following his direction in confusion, Althea looked out past the few trees standing before them and into the endless grassy plain beyond. There on the horizon, where green earth met ethereal sky, a star perched, sparkling much brighter than the others around it.

Then, as she watched, a sudden, mighty wind tore a path through the swaying grasses, flowing past the pair and racing away towards the star. The moment the wind’s path collided with the horizon, the star began to grow, becoming brighter and brighter. Within moments, its white light began to encompass everything in its path, becoming even brighter than the sun until it was nearly all Althea could see.

And yet, even as a pure ray of light, it did not blind her. Not once did it burn her eyes or cause her to blink from its intensity.

And then, shapes came into view in the center of the light, standing out strongly against the pure white of the star’s radiance.

She lost her breath.

She could see them, as clearly as if they were standing right in front of her. Her mother smiled brightly at her, no longer aged and sickly as she had been on her deathbed. She now stood in her prime within the light, a few joyful tears running down her cheeks as she gazed out upon them. Her father stood beside her, tall and strong once more with his arm holding her mother tightly against his side. He smiled tenderly out at his daughter, giving her his long-missed, playful wink.

All around them stood many more, some whom she had grown up with, others being friends she had made along the way. All of them she had lost at some point in time . . . and now they were all here, smiling at her . . . waiting for her.

Seeing them all again, she felt the war in her heart calm, joy and amazement taking hold of her.

Daemon’s warm voice called her attention back to him as tears of joy streamed down her face.

“Tis but the start of another journey . . .” He, too, had been watching the others, smiling gently into the light. But upon the end of his statement, he turned his head back to her, his eyes shining with love and devotion.

“One we can finally take together.” He whispered to her with affection. Delicately, he leaned over slightly and raised one of her still-captured hands to his lips, kissing her knuckles. Looking up from his kiss and into her eyes, he asked in a low, adoring voice with an eager smile.

“Shall we, my love?”

Althea looked up into the deep, blue eyes of her soulmate, years of unshed tears cascading down her cheeks. A beautiful smile graced her lips as she shakily nodded her head, unable to speak a word in the overwhelming joy that drove the pain away.

Smiling in delighted contentment, Daemon gently pulled her forward, walking backwards at first as he led her towards the star’s light. She followed him willingly, nearly laughing at the sheer happiness that was bursting within her chest.

Leaving the trees behind, they stepped into the long, soft grass of the endless field, the shining light beginning to surround them.

Splashes of morning dew flew like shooting stars from around their treading feet as they strolled forward through the swaying grasses. Soon, Daemon stopped pulling her along and together, they walked side-by-side, their hands still locked together.

And with every step they took, they began to change.

Tiny points of light began to gradually spread across Althea’s form, following along her lines and edges. Stardust dripped into her hair like tiny drops of glimmering water. The patterns of her dress, before faint, soon glittered in a white brilliance, the shining images of willow branches swinging in the gentle wind of the plain. And then, the shimmering stars drifted across her face, tracing her smile and filling her eyes with flaring light.

Within moments, Voronina Althea walked upon the earth as a living constellation, her soulmate at her side with the return of his own celestial pattern.

As one, they took their final steps upon the earth, the stars awaiting them as the light welcomed them with a warm embrace.

One last step and they could hear the voices and laughter of the others.

A bursting flash that would have stunned the whole world lit up the land, bathing everything in a split second of white light.

Then, in an instant, the star’s light vanished.

In its place, the sun breached the horizon, raining down the first of its golden light of the day upon the world.

Its warm rays spread across the land, softly lighting the earth and chasing away the inky black of the night. Within moments, it came upon the scene that had held a long-awaited reunion.

There, its light found only a small, fenced-in, grassy pasture and the empty edge of an ancient forest.

 

 

 

* * *

 

The night had long since moved on and the sun stood proudly in its place from its highest point when the kind doll couple arrived at the lovely cabin in the woods. The birds were singing joyfully and several squirrels were leaping across the forest floor with ease and carefreeness. The wind was blowing gently down from the white clouds above, playing with the dancing trees and beautiful garden that cradled the lonely home.

It was such a serene image . . . one they did not expect to be followed by grief.

Venturing into the quaint domain when they received no answer to their calls, they found Althea nestled on the cot of her medicine den, seemingly asleep.

But her stilled chest and her silence to their desperate calls spoke of a far deeper sleep, one of an eternal rest.

But even in death, a gentle smile lay across her lips and her scarred, weathered face had relaxed into a most peaceful expression. Her hand still held the precious locket to her silenced heart.

Above them all, Keldan and Eileen had failed to notice in their grief.

Above them, a painting hung silent and true.

Above them, another soul had left as well, leaving behind nothing but the painted, swinging branches of a lamented Weeping Willow.

 

_One day, when mistakes are put to right,_

_and our story comes to an end,_

_I promise you, my love,_

_we will be together again._

_I promise you, my love,_

_I promise you my love._

_. . . my love._

****

**_MY_ **

****

**_LOVE_ **

**_“For eternity . . .”_ **

* * *

 

*Screen fades to black. Credits roll against the black screen, now gradually filling with stars and the drifting, colorful streams of the heavens as either Bryan Adam's "I Will Always Return" (End Title) plays or Ólafur Arnalds’s “ _And They Have Escaped The Weight Of Darkness”_ plays*

**Author's Note:**

> Even when the physical heart stops beating . . . when there is love . . . the spirit’s heart never ceases.
> 
> Anyway, that marks the end of Althea’s and Daemon’s story chronilogically!  
> But the story . . . is just beginning! 
> 
> I plan on turning Daemon’s life into a series, either on here or in book form!  
> For now though, it will only be tiny one-shots with this spin-off of ShinyZango’s story.
> 
> They will continue to be in the same universe as ShinyZango’s for now, in the same overall story, but Daemon and Althea may be revamped into a standalone in the coming years, who knows!
> 
> It’s a thought. Thanks for reading!
> 
> Oh! And special thanks to inkabelle_designs for helping out with some of Althea's emotions. Thanks a lot!
> 
> Note: Althea was her young self again the moment she touched Daemon.
> 
> And if you are wondering about the painting . . . Daemon never left her, not even in Death. He kept his promise, watching over her until the moment came for him to finally and completely leave this world with her hand in his.
> 
> Call it the magic of a dying wish or the stubbornness of an earthly soul . . . he stayed.


End file.
